


Just What the Doctor Ordered

by Spootilious



Series: Spoots Sanders Sides One offs [8]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Gay, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Relationship(s), remile - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:02:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29987427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spootilious/pseuds/Spootilious
Summary: Dr. Emile Picani has it bad for one of his patience and Remy knows it.
Relationships: Dr. Emile Picani & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders
Series: Spoots Sanders Sides One offs [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2202996
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Just What the Doctor Ordered

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this post: https://gender-snatched.tumblr.com/post/190390813933/remy-i-think-my-therapist-has-a-crush-on
> 
> Original post here: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190398490307/the-patient-the-doctor-ordered

Dr. Emile Picani sat at his desk humming the Steven Universe theme softly to himself as he finished his paperwork. His next client was already a few minutes late, though that wasn’t out of the ordinary. No, Remy would show up when he was ready and not a moment before.

Emile didn’t mind in the least. Each of his patients were unique in their own right and Remy was certainly a force to be reckoned with. Besides, his tardiness allowed for a bit of extra time to get his filing done. Not to mention the more work he managed to accomplish, the mor-

BAM!

The doctor jumped as the door flew open, smacking against the wall, causing the pictures to rattle from the force of the polished wood hitting the door stop. The patient in question strode into the room, dark sunglasses pulled to the tip of his nose so he could peer over them, Starbucks’ coffee lifted so that he could sip from its straw, and every inch of him demanding the attention Picani was more than willing to give.

“Guuurrrlll, You are never going to believe the day I’ve had!” Remy huffed, moving into the room and collapsing haphazardly into the chair in front of his desk.

Emile took a moment to try and calm his furiously beating heart. “Cheese and Crackers, Remy. Must you always scare me like that?” he breathed. He was well aware that the tightness in his chest was only partially due to the scare and largely due to the attractive form of the man currently draped over the arms of his client chair.

“Hold the f-up, Doll… With a face like this,” he pointedly glanced over the rim of his dark lenses, “a dramatic entrance is a must. The world needs to know, darling,” he drawled. “Now, don’t interrupt. I was about to tell you about my day.” he reminded with a quick wink that sent Emile’s temperature rising.

“Of course,” Emile offered pleasantly. He closed the file he had been working on, leaning against the mahogany desk and listened intently.

Remy recounted his day, which all-in-all didn’t seem too bad, despite the broken nail and ruined ‘work of art’ that was his hair. The man always had a flair for the dramatic, but Emile found it quite endearing; which was probably why the small soft crooked smile that now appeared on his lips was ever present when Remy recounted his troubles.

In all actuality, he was fairly certain that Remy didn’t really need to see him once a week. He wasn’t exactly sure why he continued to set up the appointments, but the overdramatic man consistently did. His troubles were usually fairly small. It seemed that he simply wanted someone to listen to him vent or complain, not that Emile minded. He could listen to the man talk for hours and ask for an encore.

“So, I was like: Get in Bitch we’re going napping! And she was like ‘I have to study’,” Remy continued, tossing up his hands as if it was the most insulting thing he had ever heard, “Study! As if that was more important than some genuine quality self care! I swear women today just don’t get it.” he scoffed, rolling his eyes before he took another long draw of his coffee.

The words seemed to sink in far more slowly than Emile would have liked. It was obvious he was distracted as he watched the way Remy’s mouth moved with every syllable. Silence fell between them briefly before amusement began to shine in his patient’s eyes.

“Take a picture, Doll… It will last longer,” he teased lightly before shifting to sit up. He leaned forward to glance down at the notepad Dr. Picani usually spent his time writing on, noticing the empty lines.

Emile tensed at the realization that he had been staring and flushed, not even bothering to try and stop his patient from taking his pad. “Oh, s-sorry… I guess I got a bit distracted,” he mumbled, “you are right though. Self care is important.”

“Gurl, don’t I know it.” Remy sang, his usual sassy self as his pen moved cross the paper.

“Has anything else happened today that you would like to discuss?” the doctor asked, trying to move the conversation along (and pick up the pieces of his shattered dignity.)

“I think my therapist has a crush on me.”

So much for picking up the pieces. If Remy bothered to glance up from whatever he was writing on the page he would most certainly see the deer-in-the-headlight look Dr. Picani was giving him.

“A-and H-how does that make you feel?” He stuttered almost automatically. The question was ingrained in him… He was a therapist after all.

“Pretty good actually.” Remy shrugged as if it was nothing to be concerned about.

Emile was stunned into silence. His thoughts came to a screeching halt, nothing but the Window’s error sound echoing against the confines of his mind. His heart felt as if it were about to rip from his chest with the force of its pounding.

Remy pushed to his feet, shooting the doctor a playful wink over his glasses before tossing the notepad on his desk. It was all Emile could do just to glance at it.

The words were written in elegant flowery handwriting, easily legible:  
‘Don Camillos.  
4352 S. Stemmons  
Thomasville, FL  
7PM reservation for 2’

“Don’t be late, k?” Remy called over his shoulder as he headed for the door, leaving it open behind him as he disappeared down the hall.

Emile’s mind was slow to catch up on what had just occurred. The joyously loud squealing cry that followed echoed through the halls and sent his concerned staff hurrying to his aid to make sure he was alright.

He couldn’t have been better.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to Gilby-the-grad-student.tumblr.com for all the help!
> 
> As always requests, prompts, and general inbox is open!


End file.
